Golden King
by snorting chords
Summary: Every person has their doubts. What about those of King Eomer? Taking such a high title is a burden many cannot bear, so how did Eomer feel when it was passed to him at Theodens death? A small oneshot into the thoughts of Eomer before he rides out to meet


"_**We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."**_

Even as I speak those words, I know it to be true. Victory cannot be ours, no matter how much I lie to myself, to all the people around me. How can victory belong to Rohan, when their 'King' loses hope with each fleeting second? Because all hope has left me, just as all love has. My sister… Oh Eowyn, how it pains me to see you so broken! If only I could have protected you, shielded you against the darkness.

But light is not mine to give. Just as I see it fade within beloved Eowyn, I know it fades in me. My own liege is dead. I saw him, lying broken on the floor, all breath gone from his bruised body. Dearest uncle, you have left me with this burden, faithfully believing I can do this. But I cannot. I cannot rule these fine men when I have failed them already.

"Not for ourselves. But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves." Aragorn says, looking around the throne room. The Dwarf, Elf and Wizard have joined us, the two Kings of the new age. Aragorn clearly respects these peoples judgement, and because of that, they hold respect in my heart also.

I cannot help but look to Aragorn in wonderment. His duty is a much more larger burden than mine to bear. All his life he has run from this destiny, fearing the failure of his past ancestor. He knows what weak blood runs in his veins, and is scared to fall into the same pit as the once proud Isildur did. His own torment has made him blind to all around him. When all faith was lost, he came to us and led us into battle as a King. By just one sentence he had proved himself as King of the Free Men. 'Then I shall die as one of them!' The words of a true King, and words that I will never speak.

And yet, through all of this, he holds strong. Most would buckle and fall underneath the pressure of all that is expected of him, yet Aragorn still stands, stronger each day. I am no fool, and I can see that his own hope is diminishing. Not for the War, he still believes that we can win, and the halfling can succeed in his task. But his lack of faith goes to Rivendell, the fair Elven city. The tales I hear from the men, he has a beautiful Elven maiden that betrothed herself to him many years ago. And it is for her that his hope fades, as she does. But through all of this the slightest glimmer of hope always remains, burning bright within his eyes at the thought he might one day see this fair Elf again and fulfil their vows.

Perhaps that is where we differ, Aragorn and I. He has the love of a maiden, who loves him in return. I have never known such a thing. Yes, I hold the love of my sister, and my uncle. I am sure that my parents loved me before their passing, Theoden spoke so highly of them, and how proud they would be to see their son and daughter grow into such noble people. But this is a limited love, for it is given without question. We almost forget it, because it is always there. I was born to these people and for that, they will always be a part of my heart… Yet there is such a gap there that leaves me cold. I fear nothing can fill it, and that I will forever be half a person.

The others speak again, yet I pay their words no heed. I know what it is to be done. My mind already wanders to the stables, checking my horse for the ride to Mordors gates. Once again, as ever, I begin to wonder what uncle Theoden would have done. This is another worry that lies on my young shoulders. How can I ever become a King to the people whose King before me served them so well? He was such a noble man, that I doubt my worth can come close to his. His throne is left to me, but how can I reign in his stead? The pain is just too near, and I can never be the man that he is.

I remember the day when I first saw the great hall of Meduseld. The sun glimmered radiantly from the golden rooftops, sending small rainbows over the ground in the blinded haze of my eyes. I was breathless and I could find no words to speak. Strange, one might think, since I had lived with the King of Rohan for my full 11 years.

It does not hurt to speak of my mothers passing, because I never knew her. She died after the birth of Eowyn, though no one blames the youngest of us two for it. Our mother was sick for months, of a broken heart at my fathers passing. It is sad, that I knew neither parent for longer than 2 years, but I do not dwell on the grief for it is pushed away. I had not known them for I was far too young when they died. I remember little things. Looks and touches. Flashes of a beautiful woman, golden and the fairest I have seen save Eowyn herself. I know she loved us, even if she left us. But we were sent to the care of uncle Theoden and he treated us like his own children. Theodred and I would always get ourselves in trouble and were always being told off by our nurse. Eowyn was the well-behaved one, at least in the presence of the formidable woman charged with the care of the royal children.

All three of us had explored Rohan at great length with our horses, and even lands beyond that. Yet we had not seen Meduseld so close and so… glorious. Theoden though it best we learnt what we had to in the privacy of a quiet village in Rohan. He knew what hardship it was to deal with so much responsibility at a young age and the best gift he gave us was a normal childhood. He visited every week, with gifts and smiles. But we were happy to grow up in the small village, with the caring woman who kept us in check.

Yet when I got to Meduseld, I knew that my life would belong to Rohan. I would serve her to my death, be that in 10 years or a 100. And I know that now. I cannot help but fear my death will be nigh, and despite my brave vows to my King and Country, I am scared. I want to see my sister grow happy again, I want to see her shine like our mother. She is beautiful, yet it is diminishing every second as her wounds heal. She is dying, tied to her grief as the Elves are. I cannot save her, so how can I save myself? How can I save Rohan? Middle Earth? I cannot, and I know it. Aragorn knows it. Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf know it but no one says it.

The rest of the conversation passes me by, and Aragorn leaves to do something that only Mithrandir seems to know. I hope it helps us, because I cannot see past my own despair. I cannot see how I can be King of Rohan for I feel so unworthy when all I see in my mind is the Great Eye swallowing all. Gimli and Legolas walk out too, no doubt to bicker as I see them do all the time. I feel envy for them, the slightest tinge. What friend do I have to question my aim? I have only subjects now, and all the men who joke and drink with me will only see their King to respect. Even my sister, who treats me as normal as normal can be, calls me Lord and it feels wrong.

"I do not want this." I say before I can stop myself. I sigh with relief that I am alone, but I still feel guilty that I voiced my doubts, albeit alone.

"No one does Eomer, yet these things come to us unwanted and unbidden." Gandalf. I had forgotten about him. It is not hard to, for the Wizard can disappear without using magick. He stands there now, plain as day with his pipe and his burning eyes staring right at me. Yet he is invisible to all but me. Theoden trusted Gandalf but can I do so too? Will he think me weak for saying all that weighs heavily on my mind?

"We all have our doubts, it is what makes us stronger. The absence of doubt leaves us only pride and pride leads to our downfalls."

"Do you always speak such wise words Wizard?" I ask with a small smile, and Gandalf shakes his head.

"I speak the words I have. They are only wise to those who listen, and realise something within them. I do not give you the wisdom, I merely give you the window." He replies and I ponder his words as he stands and walks over to me. I look up at the shadow that has towered over me, for Gandalf stands taller than even my impressive height. He rivals the Elves I have heard, in height and knowledge.

"Death is always hard, and it shows our weaknesses where no others would see them. But it gives us heart too. He would not have appointed this task to you if he doubted you. Yes, it will be hard, and sacrifices will be made for your people. But you know that you can do it." He continues, laying a hand on my shoulder. I look up to him, fear showing clear in my eyes for the first time in years.

"And if I fail?" I ask, wanting nothing more than for Gandalf to reassure me I won't. He merely shakes his head.

"Think it, and you have Eomer. I cannot tell your future, and I cannot assure you that you will be everything your people need. Your reassurance lies in the eyes of your people. Look at them. _Really_ look at them, at their eyes, at the way they look at _you_. Do you see fear, hatred, disappointment?"

"No." I reply, shaking my head. I find the words flowing easier than they ever have, and I know the truth. "I see love. My love for them. How much they love me." Gandalf smiles and straightens himself up, removing his hand from my shoulder. I find myself smiling, and hoping too. I **will **win this war. For my family. Rohan is my family, and I will protect them all with everything I have. I will not fail them and I will be remembered in the Golden Hall for years to come.

"Then love them." Gandalf says as he turns and walks out, leaving me alone with one window to wisdom. "All you need is that."

I keep my ground until I hear his footsteps die down. Gondor is a wonderful city I think to myself as I walk over to the window and look out. Yet I cannot wait to go home to my family.

"You cannot have them." I murmur, looking to the fiery east. As if Sauron can hear me, the fires grow brighter, and I shield my eyes with a smile. His defeat will come, and I will rejoice with the people of Rohan for years to come. I will serve them well, and love them as much as I can.

"Eomer?" Aragorn asks as he pauses outside the room. He holds his left hand with a pained look as if it is scorched, but I do not question him. His strength is more than any mans I have known, and he will lead us into battle come what may.

"Yes Lord Ellesar?" I ask in reply, turning my body to face him.

"Ready?" I know what he means. Am I ready to say goodbye to all those I love and tell them what do to if I do not come back? No Aragorn, I am not ready. Because I **am **coming back.

"Let us ride and show Sauron the new age of Men." I say with a victorious smile, walking out the room and closing the door on my doubt.


End file.
